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Thank you as always to the Boosters, Fave'ers and Readers of my Tales!

New followers, welcome! :blobcatcoffee:

An infrequent reminder that I have a Patreon patreon.com/Teryl that is free/public that contains 'bonus material/notes' following each tale!

For anyone more inclined to one-off donations, there is a Tip-Jar: tinyurl.com/yx3nkp4z

Any financial support is greatly appreciated, but faves, boosts and comments are also greatly appreciated!

Thank you all so much. :blobmiou:

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I'm not really sure how to promote myself. If you've enjoyed my work, and have ever felt the urge to throw some coin at me, I now have a Patreon.

I reveal the filename of the individual story and sometimes have additional notes/thoughts about them too. It's all completely free there, if you wish to check it out. I haven't thought of anything to actually place behind a subscription.

Here's the link, thanks for your time and interest!
patreon.com/Teryl

"Cheese is a unique choice to hoard."

The dragon snorted, "It pairs with my extensive wine collection."

"And you throw cheese & wine parties."

"Naturally! The grandeur of my hoard must be known!"

"Yet guests leave disappointed."

"It's not my fault the fools expect to sample my treasures..."

The party-planner frowned, "So, you don't feed your guests... and insult them."

The dragon pondered, "Oh... I may see where I'm going wrong."

"Cheese is a unique choice to hoard."

The dragon snorted, "It pairs with my extensive wine collection."

"And you throw cheese & wine parties."

"Naturally! The grandeur of my hoard must be known!"

"Yet guests leave disappointed."

"It's not my fault the fools expect to sample my treasures..."

The party-planner frowned, "So, you don't feed your guests... and insult them."

The dragon pondered, "Oh... I may see where I'm going wrong."

The raven bounced excitedly, pointing her beak at a majestic peacock, as dark and glossy as herself, gazing solemnly into the palace fountain.

"There he is," she squawked.

The wizard turned his head to get a better look, letting out a yelp as the raven pecked his ear, "Don't look!"

"We came here so you could meet him," the wizard grumped, rubbing the sore spot of skin.

"Maybe... next time," the raven squeaked, hiding in his sleeve shyly.

Each bubble held a thought, a scream or a feather, and there was no way to know which until popped.

I had been screamed at seventy-three times, and had eleven nice feathers; my fly fisher aunt would love them.

But thoughts were what I was after to jog my sparse inspiration. I'd thought finding this place would provide me a few ideas.

"We're closing soon," the bubble-attendant called.

I was glum, but at least I wasn't empty handed...

I glared at the witch, livid at what I saw, "Release those children! They are not yours!"

She blinked tearfully, kneeling to reassure the cowering youths, whispering lies and spells into their ears, I was sure.

"Losing your own family is sad, but you cannot take someone else's!"

The children wept when I rescued them. They pointed to the witch when I asked where their family was.

It was days before I realized she had legally adopted them.

I glared at the witch, livid at what I saw, "Release those children! They are not yours!"

She blinked tearfully, kneeling to reassure the cowering youths, whispering lies and spells into their ears, I was sure.

"Losing your own family is sad, but you cannot take someone else's!"

The children wept when I rescued them. They pointed to the witch when I asked where their family was.

It was days before I realized she had legally adopted them.

Every evening the cat came, and every evening the poor artist would sketch or paint feverishly in the dimming light.

The cat would be still as a statue, until the artist was done - image completed or not. The incomplete images were always somehow completed by dawn.

The artist eventually sold the collection, then purchased a rare dried fish, feeding it to the cat and breaking the curse.

She cried, relieved to have her wife back.

I finished my mosaic knit shawl! With a cat in my lap so of course I had to drape it over him like a little blanket.

"That is NOT a werewolf thing. It's not even an accurate stereotype!"

"Absolutely it is! Werewolves are always tall and muscular."

We debated back and forth until the sun began to set. Finally she slid her stubby legs off the bench, glaring up at me as she dusted off her plump thighs.

"You should stay inside tonight, it's a full moon," she growled.

I laughed until I saw a golden glint in her eye and a fang exposed by her curled lip.

Good morning folk and friends from far and near!

Today I wish you something to cheer for ✨

Reality had been warped but capitalism hadn't.

So I endured the haunted coffee-maker in the break-room, and the multi-eyed & multi-limbed receptionist constantly attempted to snatch folks up as brides or sacrifices. HR was struggling with the situation; Elder Gods are hard to hold accountable, and this one could type 99 words per minute and was otherwise great at their job.

They hadn't tried to snatch me yet - I was a smidge offended.

The rats had come again. Five this time, backlit by the moon.

"She can't hear us," insisted a voice I'd heard the night before, "And we made threats that would curlify your whiskers."

I'd learned to fade into the background - be quiet and still in the face of threats or bluffs.

"We could take you somewhere warm, safe and full of riches," tempted a new voice.

A single grain of hope had me respond, and my trust was thankfully not betrayed.

"It's been a day, sir."

The admiral furrowed her already wrinkled brow.

"Are we going to acknowledge the child who uncovered the war-inducing plot in any way?"

She chewed her lip with pristine, pearly teeth, then waved a perturbed flipper at her human subordinate, "Not one of us, trained professionals, even had a clue! It's mortifying."

"A crisis was averted, sir."

"True. Send the family to a nice, remote, resort... Then seal the report."

Show thread

The young mermaid thrashed about as she'd been taught to.

Eventually a kindly land-dweller would try to save her. So far it'd just been the same golden-furred canine six times.

"Stop it," she scolded, even as she ruffled its floppy ears, "You're not the type of land-dweller I'm trying to drag to a watery fate."

But as the sun set, the mermaid sighed, "You'll have to do."

The dog adapted to gills and a swimming tail with surprising ease.

I counted each ship as it docked, dazzled by the variety.

I was able to identify most of them; make, model, age and origin.

Most were new, from many galaxies away. The human vessels were the least impressive, yet most distinctive.

Three sleek, silvery cruisers were not in my guide-book file. This event was classified so I couldn't just ask the Inter-Webs.

Thankfully, my curiosity did get the better of me, and I uncovered an insidious plot!

Every day the cat came to the bridge over the pond, dipped a paw into the clear waters, and snatched a fat, lazy fish for lunch.

The cat grew fat with this abundant food supply, but had remained fit fleeing angry royal servants and guards.

One day the King happened to witness the cat's antics.

"I wish that were me," he lamented, having no time for fishing.

And just like that, the cat became the king and the king became the cat.

I realized something was up while watching reruns of my aunt's favorite gameshow, long canceled.

There she was, my aunt in all her glory, answering every question right, then dedicating her winnings to me. I wasn't due to be born for another two years. And she should've been sixteen at the time; but that was my aunt as I knew her today.

She winked as she instructed me to check my closet.

It was stuffed with mint condition 90s collectibles.

"There's a centaur in the bathhouse," declared a frazzled attendant.

I rubbed my temples, "Why do drunks keep riding their horses into our business?"

"I didn't say that, and I quit."

I let him go, only asking that he call upon some town-guards on his way home. He said he wasn't sure they would be up to handling this.

Annoyed and puzzled, I went to handle the situation alone.

Drunk as he was, at least the centaur didn't poop in the tub.

"There's a centaur in the bathhouse," declared a frazzled attendant.

I rubbed my temples, "Why do drunks keep riding their horses into our business?"

"I didn't say that, and I quit."

I let him go, only asking that he call upon some town-guards on his way home. He said he wasn't sure they would be up to handling this.

Annoyed and puzzled, I went to handle the situation alone.

Drunk as he was, at least the centaur didn't poop in the tub.

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